S. L. Viehl - Now or Never

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For Lily

Muri ga toureba douri hikkomu

First Electronic Printing December 2003

Cover Art and Design by Lazette Gifford

http://www.lazette.net/

Introduction

It’s the end of the year already?

That was my first thought when I started putting together this e-book.

2003 was the Year of Landmarks That Whizzed Right On Past Me. My

first hardcover novel, Blade Dancer, was released in August and sold out

almost immediately. My first Christian adult fiction novel, Going to the

Chapel, was published in the same month (as was my sixth romance, The

Kissing Blades.) I sold and wrote more novels than I have in any other

year since I turned pro. As I write this, I am nearly finished Heat of the

Moment, which will be the ninth book I’ve written in 2003.

While all these important things were happening, I was, well,

writing.

I’m not complaining. Any author who complains about having

too

much

work should be smacked in the head a few times, then forced to re-read all

the rejection letters he or she ever received as an aspiring writer. The

latter would take me a good month.

You guys have stuck with me through it all, even when I up and

disappeared for eight weeks back in September (I was writing three books

at the same time.) I can’t tell you how much your loyalty means to me. I

can show a little well-deserved appreciation, though, so along with all the

web site stories from 2003, I’ve included in this e-book two never-before-

published short stories, Defense Mechanism and The Widow, and a

sneak peek at BioRescue and Into the Fire, two of my new novels for

2004.

Although there will be some changes on my web site over the next year, I

remain committed to providing free stories for my readers, so stop in

when you can. I will always be writing for you.

Happy Holidays, and may 2004 be the Year of Excellent Things That

Happen for all of us.

Sheila Kelly

December 2003

Back to Back

By S.L. Viehl

I woke up when they threw the body into my crawl.

He was alive, but roughed up – gashed, bleeding green blood, and

his right arm was at a wrong angle to his shoulder – and despite that he

landed on his knees and was back up in two seconds. He went for the

door first and took a heavy jolt that sent him reeling back toward me.

“Don’t do that again,” I said, and sat up as he whipped around to

face me. “Two stuns will set off an alarm, and then the guards will come in

and kick your ass until you’re unconscious.”

He stepped out of the shadows, but they stuck to him. No, he was

naturally dark – blue-skinned, a really pretty shade of sapphire. His eyes

were completely white.

“Locega Jorenhai?” He had a low, deep voice, and used one of his

six-fingered hands in a fluid motion. He was looking around, and his white

eyeballs moved, implying he wasn’t blind.

“Sorry, no.” I plucked a piece of my bedding from the matted hair

hanging in my eyes and palmed a chunk of stone in my other hand, just to

be safe. Some of the new ones thought nothing of raping a female, and he

was a lot bigger than me. “You speak stanTerran?”

His spooky eyes studied me, from my bare soles to the little dip in

the middle of my nose. “Te-her-hran?”

“That’s right.” I spat on the floor of the crawl in emphasis. “Terran.”

He looked up at the crawl roof and muttered something under his

breath. Something that sounded mean.

“I’m thrilled to meet you, too.” I scooted back down into my mound

of dead grass and pointed to the one Gfrra had occupied until yesterday,

when he’d taken one blow too many on the sands. I didn’t thinking I’d miss

his snoring, but I did. “That pile is yours.”

Big Blue started pacing the length of the crawl, studying every crack

in the stones. I curled up and tried to ignore him, but after an hour I

sighed. He was heavy, and his footsteps pounded the stone. He’d be at it

all night if I didn’t do something. I got up and got in his way.

He stopped and looked down at me. “Junia’arral tobereno?”

“Time for bed.” I pointed to his mound, then closed my eyes and

tilted my head for a second. “Sleep.”

He made another quick gesture – sort of like the universal gesture

for

screw you

– and went around me. I turned and smacked the base of

his skull with my rock. He hit the dirt in stages – knees, hands, face – and

didn’t move again.

I checked for a pulse – if I’d killed him, the guards would be pissed,

so I’d have to make it look like he’d done himself – but he was still alive.

Steady, heavy pulse, nice face, well-built body.

The guards especially loved breaking slaves like him, poor bastard.

I tucked my rock back in the little niche I’d dug out in the floor,

dropped onto my grass bed and slept.

“Rise for the count. Rise!”

I dragged myself up in time to see centuron HekVar kick my new

bedmate over onto his back. Big Blue continued the roll, got up on his feet

and lunged at the Hsktskt.

I closed my eyes, but the sound of the zap he took still made me

wince.

“Fool.” HekVar was not amused by such antics, and glared down at

him as he writhed on the floor in agony. The wide scar on his brow

wrinkled as he bent down and snapped Big Blue’s arm back into its socket.

“Gnat, why have you not instructed this one yet?”

I immediately assumed the position of response, dropping to my

knees, bowing my head and holding my hands open and out.

“Forgive me, centuron. I don’t speak his language.” I hoped it

wouldn’t get me zapped, not when I had warming to get through before

breakfast.

“He likes to fight; he has been doing so since we removed him from

the transport last night.” HekVar walked around Big Blue in a circle. “I will

allow you translators.”

Great. Now I’d

have

to talk to him, and he was completely untrained.

I changed position, clasping my hands behind my neck, and elevating my

head an inch higher. It meant I needed direction.

“What do you not understand, Gnat?”

I’d never gotten a raw captive before. “Centuron, will I be held

responsible for his infractions?”

He considered that. “Not for seven days.”

I only had a week to train him? It would be simpler to kill him.

Touching my head and palms to the ground in the position of gratitude

nearly made me choke, but I was a good slave, so that’s what I did. “My

thanks, centuron.”

We were counted and then hustled out of the crawl. My new

bedmate didn’t try to escape – the passages beneath the arena were

narrow, featureless stone, so there was nowhere for him to go – until we

hit the sands. Then he ran at an entry and discovered the inhibitor grids.

He landed at my feet again, totally dazed.

“Those are charged, too.” I held out my hand and helped him to his

feet. He was big

and

heavy. HekVar had better get those translators for

us soon, or this one wouldn’t last the day. “Stay with me and do what I do.”

“Nua.” He slapped his chest and glared down at me. “Jalka Adan.”

“Jalka Adan?” I pointed at his chest as I repeated it, and he inclined

his head. I nodded and tapped my own sternum. “Gnat.”

“Nyatuh?”

His palate was really too fluid for my lingo, but it was close enough. I

copied his gesture and inclined my head. “Yes.” Then I saw the warmers

coming out of the training hall and grabbed his arm. “This way.”

The warmers never wasted time but went right to work and

attacked us with their padded weapons. We were supposed to dodge and

evade. The Hsktskt considered it a good way to loosen tight slave muscle.

Jalka Adan didn’t understand, and would have counter attacked the

warmer who came at him, had I not rolled in front of him and shoved him

back before whirling away from the padded pole end.

The warmer, an old slave named Yerv, snorted in disgust. “Why give

you him?”

“Don’t know.” I yelped as large blue hands grabbed me and Jalka

tried to shove me behind him. “No, big guy, it’s okay. Yerv, you rec his

kind?”

“Jorenian,” Yerv told me as he went after a sluggish Tingalean.

“They self term.”

Which meant they committed suicide. A lot of newcomers did,

when they got to the crawls – not every species accepts enslavement, and

it was better than going crackbrain and killing everyone around them. As

a couple of Emsalmalin warmers headed our way, I tugged at the

Jorenian’s arm. “Come on, move.”

He glanced at me, then the spiny pair. “Fa klaree n’oal.”

“You can Fah-clare-ree-no-all later. Come

.” I yanked, and he finally

followed me.

Warming continued for another ten minutes before a guard

sounded the end chime and the warmers retreated back to the training

hall. I prevented the Jorenian from getting whacked, but it wasn’t easy –

he kept digging his heels in and wanting to counter. By the end of the

session, some of the guards had perked up and were watching us – not a

good thing.

“Stupid Gnat,” Yerv muttered as he passed by me. “He get you

killed.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I hadn’t had this much trouble since they’d stuck me

with an Icthorii last cycle. The feeding horn sounded, and I looked up at the

stern blue face. “Time to eat.”

I showed him how to fall into line and shepherded him into the

feeding hall. Since Gffra was gone, there was a space open at my table,

and I pushed Jalka to kneel down beside me.

Distributor drones rolled up and down the aisles delivering food,

which was allocated based on species and body weight. I showed the

Jorenian how to identify himself by using the DNA scanner, and watched

the drone dole out a huge pile of assorted syn veg.

“Not a meat eater, huh?” I scanned and got my own small bowl of

mixed protein stew.

Jalka gingerly sampled his fare and grimaced. “Gtak.”

“Yeah, this sucks, but it’s all you’ll get until after the bouts. Force it,

you need the calories.” I made faces to go with the words, and he must

have understood because he started eating.

We were only allotted ten minutes for feeding before the guards

came to hustle us out to walk. We had to trot in pairs around a one kim

track for the next hour without stopping, but it was the one place we were

allowed to speak to each other. We formed our usual information relay

teams and I passed the word on about Gffra.

Kosper, the latest and smartest of the crawl bosses, fell in behind

me and Jalka. “I see you scored raw meat,” he called to me. “Need any

help?”

“Not yet.” I checked the guards to see if they were watching Jalka.

They were. “Kos, you got anybody who speaks this guy’s lingo?”

“He’s Jorenian. I know some.”

“Good.” I let out a pent-up breath. “Tell him we’re getting

translators, but until we do he needs to do what I do.” When Kos relayed

that, Jalka almost turned around, then eyed me and said something back.

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12ForLilyMurigatourebadourihikkomuFirstElectronicPrintingDecember2003Copyright2003byS.L.ViehlAllRightsReservedCoverArtandDesignbyLazetteGiffordhttp://www.lazette.net/3IntroductionIt’stheendoftheyearalready?ThatwasmyfirstthoughtwhenIstartedputtingtogetherthise-book.2003wastheYearofLandmarksThatWhizze...

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